Blind Prejudice
by Snapesthe1
Summary: Professor Snape's visit to the Headmaster in protest of house prejudice leads to the current year being experimentally resorted. Will this be permanent or a lesson in blind prejudice and it's outcome?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: We all know by now that the Harry Potter universe does not belong to us, but to J.K. Rowling. This story was suggested by my son, Christopher and is for him. His suggestions will be incorporated throughout the story, but readers' suggestions about the story's direction are always valued. This is a first time fic and has not beta, although one would be welcome—please keep that in mind if you review

**Blind Prejudice**

**--"**_When dealing with people, remember you are not dealing with creatures of logic, but with creatures of emotion, creatures bristling with prejudice, and motivated by pride and vanity."—Dale Carnegie 1888-1955._

Lips pressed into a thin line and black teacher's robe billowing, Severus Snape stopped in front of the gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office. "Chocolate Frogs," he spat with a sneer as he stepped onto the ascending stone stairway.

He stepped to the door with a fist upraised to knock. He needn't have bothered. The door sprang open merrily to reveal the inner office of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster intoned. "By all means, enter. Would you care for a lemon sherbet?" At Snape's curt headshake to the negative, the headmaster waved his hand lazily and a shiny silver tea set shimmered into existence on a small table set between two plush armchairs by the fire. The Potions Master hissed angrily as the armchair into which he'd been motioned captured his lean form and sunk it back gently.

"Albus, this is intolerable", the Potions Master stated flatly.

Twin brows of white peaked curiously. "If the chair is not to your liking, you are always, of course, free to alter it at will."

"_Barmy old man,"_ muttered Severus. "What was that, Severus?"

"I mean to say, Headmaster", started Snape frostily, "that the blatant favoritism towards the other houses, Gryffindor, in particular, is getting out of hand. I understand that I must always atone for my past, but…"

"We will not discuss this, again, Severus!" interrupted Dumbledore sternly. "You know my views on this. Your redemption began when you turned from Voldemort and was complete when you actively joined the Light. You have endured the consequences of past choices, yes; but your soul is not in question," he finished gently.

The simultaneous chastisement and reminder of his status with the Headmaster deflated Severus slightly. He exhaled softly and tried again.

"Albus, if we may?" he questioned.

"By all mean, Severus, continue."

"I understand that a certain amount of prejudice will always exist against Slytherin. After all, the Dark Lord was a Slytherin. However, it is also true, though little known, that many a Gryffindor holds a place in the inner circle. The rampant favoritism towards Gryffindor is merely inflaming Slytherin. Why should they try to uphold house pride when points are often, unfairly I might add, taken from them at the slightest provocation? After all, your Golden Boy has been involved in no less than 3 incidents this past week alone and yet, Slytherin lost double the points of Gryffindor!"

The Potions Master leaned back even further into the annoyingly soft armchair. He braced himself for the expected gentle defense against Gryffindor and for one Gryffindor in particular.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Standard disclaimer that I don't own anything related to Harry Potter or J.K. Rawlings and that this is just fun to write and read. Absolutely no profits to be made here.

--_"Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck"—Dalai Lama 1989_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_The Potions Master leaned back even further into the annoyingly soft armchair. He braced himself for the expected gentle defense against Gryffindor and for one Gryffindor in particular._

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

What he got instead sent a minute frisson of dread up his spine. The headmaster pursed his lips in a pout that made him look an absolutely ancient four years old and glanced over the top of his glasses to Severus Snape and then up to the dusty, battered sorting hat on the shelf to his right. A sly grin graced his lips before he exhaled gustily.

"I see no help for it, Severus. I must try to put right what may have gone wrong at the beginning. Our choices do define us, but sometimes, we can make those choices for the wrong reasons."

Severus Snape suppressed a wince at this seemingly pointless diatribe.

"Headmaster, if we may return to the subject at hand, which is…"

"Why, the resorting, of course, my boy!"

Now Severus did wince.

"That, Headmaster, is not the topic at hand. We, or I, were speaking of the blatant prejudice against Slytherin. Specifically, I wanted to speak with you about your Mr. Potter's participation in baiting Slytherin, most especially Draco Malfoy. It invariably results in Mr. Malfoy's heavy loss of points for Slytherin compared to the the miniscule number of points lost for Gryffindor. Really, Albus, Potter's foolish recklessness will be the death of himself or others yet. I will not have it!"

As he finished speaking, Severus raised his chin slightly and made his first surreptious move to gracefully extricate himself from the plush monstrosity in which he was sitting. He tried to ignore the bright twinkling of the old Headmaster's eyes.

"My boy," chuckled Dumbledore. "You have the most delightful habit of paving the way for my solution. Now, you do recall that I mentioned that Harry persuaded the Hat not to place him in Slytherin? That, my dear Severus, may have been the first of many mistakes which has lead to this unfortunate situation. We must, of course, choose the most obvious route and remedy the situation."

_Alright, this would have been an obvious place for a cliffhanger; however, as it is Christmas, I'll show a little mercy._

Severus set his jaw, tensed his body and ground out, "What, pray tell, are you talking about? Do not even…"

"Why the resorting of Harry and his year mates," said Dumbledore cheerily as if the Potions Master hadn't just started to say a second sentence. "Really, dear boy, do keep up."

Severus Snape gave up all pretense of a dignified exit from the plush furniture and threw himself bodily out of the armchair. "That is the single most ridiculous notion I have ever heard…respectfully stated, Headmaster." He'd tacked on the last as an immediate afterthought. He did owe the old man a debt. "Really, Albus, the idea of a Potter in Slytherin is ludicrous. The cretin is clearly a Gryffindor through and through. Even if he does retain some Slytherin qualities, and that is a big if, he'd as soon be eaten alive as taken for a snake. Besides, if he could talk the Hat out of placing him there before, why would this time be any different? How does this solve the gross prejudice shown to Slytherin students?"

The Headmaster, who had been watching his Potions Master's tirade with a cheerful façade, leaned forward and gazed at him calmly.

"Severus, you have stated not just this time, but many times last year, that our Mr. Potter seems to continually "stir the pot" so to speak. If Harry, as the Boy-Who-Lived, can not only tolerate Slytherin, but garner respect for his new house, would this not solve both of the problems—Harry's defiance and the jaundiced eye with which others have looked upon Slytherin?"

"And what makes you so certain that Potter would sort to Slytherin this time around?" shot back Severus. "What of the Golden Trio?"

"It is true," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will undoubtedly not be sorted into Slytherin with Harry…an interesting test for all involved. And yes, Severus, I do believe Harry will be sorted into Slytherin. He simply needs to allow the hat to do its job this time."

Silently steaming, Severus' flat black eyes bore into the Headmaster's. "Have you thought this through to its logical conclusion, Albus? I am not certain of Draco Malfoy's loyalties, not to mention many others of my own house. How am I to keep the reckless idiot safe?" Once free of the plush armchair, he now stood in front of the Headmaster's desk with his arms folded tightly.

"Slytherin is for those with guile and cunning, among other things. I have no doubt, my dear Severus that you can keep Harry alive and perhaps, even, thriving in Slytherin."

Seeing the Potions Master ready to continue the argument, the old Headmaster held up his hand in protest. "No, no, my dear boy, my mind is made up. I will make the announcement tomorrow evening. We will resort the whole 2nd year along with Harry," he said smiling gently.

Severus Snape, seeing that he would get no further with the old man, simply turned on his heel and left the office with a terse, "As you wish it, Headmaster" floating behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Again with the I don't own this universe or the characters within it. It's so sad, too as I would have treated my Snape much differently____. All mistakes are mine as I have no beta._

_**Chapter 3**_

Stupidity got us into this mess, why can't it get us out?  
-- Will Rogers

S_everus Snape, seeing that he would get no further with the old man, simply turned on his heel and left the office with a terse, "As you wish it, Headmaster" floating behind him._

Dinner in the Great Hall the next night was a tense affair for Severus Snape. He entered as late as he dared through the double doors and stalked up the left side glaring at any of his Slytherins who had the audacity to stare back at him. He refused to make eye contact with the Headmaster despite noting the telltale presence of the Sorting Hat on the stool in front of the teachers' tables. It undoubtedly accounted for the higher than normal level of chatter audible throughout the Hall. His lips twisted into a sneer at the thought that the old man would truly go through with such a farce.

Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair and stood sedately in place. Beside him, Minerva McGonagall hastily tapped the side of her water glass to gain the students' attention. Despite having been made aware of the Headmaster's plan earlier in the day, her thin lips were pursed in a mew of disapproval.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," began the Headmaster. "I'm afraid we must temporarily postpone our delicious meal—I hear we're having roast pork—in favor of the matter at hand."

"It continues to come to my attention that interhouse rivalry is rampant, particularly among our second years." The Headmaster stopped and favored first Harry Potter then Draco Malfoy with a long gaze causing both boys to squirm uncomfortably in their seats.

"Repeated warnings do not seem to have changed behavior. The purpose of being Sorted is to group those students with like qualities to foster unity and a sense of family. Although we all possess qualities attributable to other houses, many aspects of our personality will seem to fit one house the best. Any attempts to undermine this process may lead to misery—known or unknown. Therefore, in the interests of any subversion that may have occurred in the beginning and to attempt to quell the tide of rivalry, I have decided to resort the second years tonight after dinner."

With the announcement made, the old Headmaster promptly clapped his hands and the usual appealing assortment of food appeared on the tables. He began to eat voraciously, completely oblivious to the malevolent gaze of his Potions Master and the incredulous stares of the second year students, including the slack-jawed gawp of one Harry Potter.

Harry tore his gaze away from the headmaster only to find it inadvertently snared by the glittering black eyes of the Potions Master. He shuddered at the loathing he saw there and pulled his eyes back to his food. He could still feel the heat of those eyes on the back of his head when he became aware of an elbow insistently burrowing in his ribs. He looked up to see Ron's pained face and Hermione's bright eyes narrowed in intense thought.

"D'ya hear that, mate? He's gone mental, that one. We've already been Sorted once and we didn't sub…, sub…, er, you know, try to hide anything! What's he mean?" Ron asked with righteous indignation. His head snapped up to Hermione as he heard her snort with derision.

"He means, Ron that someone obviously tried to influence the hat and ended up in the wrong House."

At Ron's continued look of befuddlement, she shook her head impatiently.

"Oh, really, Ronald," Hermione said. "The Headmaster thinks that some of us talked the Hat out of putting us in the right House."

Harry fidgeted in his seat restlessly at this which brought Hermione's sharp eyes to his. Thankfully, she did not press the advantage and he breathed a small sigh of relief as Ron's next words distracted her.

"Erm,what good will re-Sorting do at this point? I mean, whoever influenced the Hat the first time, why couldn't they do that again?"

"Obviously, the Headmaster has found a way to avoid that this time around." She swung her hair back fussily. "I wonder if I'll be in Ravenclaw this time around." Her eyes glazed slightly, probably in anticipation of the constant studying thought Harry.

Ron gaped at her. "Were you supposed to be in Ravenclaw the first time around?"

Hermione frowned and blushed slightly. "I don't think so. I didn't consciously try to persuade the Hat to put me in any one house. What about you, Ron? I don't suppose you wanted to be anywhere else? She phrased it as a half-hearted inquiry because everyone knew that all seven Weasley children had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Harry was again spared from having to partake in the conversation when the dinner dishes vanished from the table in a sparkle of magic. The Hall quieted eagerly in anticipation of the unexpected Sorting and Harry could feel a cold sweat break out up and down his spine. Would the Sorting Hat insist on Slytherin this time around? What would his friends think? Would they still be friends? They would if he had anything to say about it.

Harry and his year mates found themselves once again clustered in front of the teachers' tables waiting to be Sorted into their House. Last year, his breath was shallow with anxiety mixed with happy anticipation. This time, Harry found his breathing hampered by anger. Why was this happening now? What if he was forced into the snakes' den with his archenemy? What exactly was Dumbledore trying to prove?

Before he could speculate further, Professor McGonagall strode forth and stood beside the battered Hat. It obviously pained her to do so, yet she repeated the same words to them as she had last year. _"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted, "she said (Rowling, J.K., 1997, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, p. 148)._

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he heard, "Bones, Susan" followed by the Sorting Hat's cry of "Hufflepuff". Well, at least some things hadn't changed. He couldn't picture Susan Bones anywhere else but Hufflepuff. She was simply too…well, loyal.

He then lost himself in the Sorting watching as one by one his year mates continued to be Sorted into their original houses. Even Malfoy snorted contemptuously as the Sorting Hat again exclaimed, "Slytherin" before it so much as touched a well-coifed strand of the silver-white hair.

Soon, only the Gryffindor Golden Trio remained. Of the three, the name, "Granger, Hermione" was called first. He watched Hermione walk with studied composure up to the stool, sit down and close her eyes briefly. His stomach clenched when the Hat shouted, "Ravenclaw" and Hermione's eyes flew open in surprise. She turned to McGonagall to protest but was stopped by the Professor's upraised hand.

"Please take a seat at your new house table, Miss Granger."

Hermione's eyes had an unexpected sheen of tears glossing them over and she looked at Harry and Ron beseechingly. Ron looked incredulous but Harry offered her a small smile even as his stomach continued to clench painfully. She attempted to smile back but the resulting grimace forced her to duck her head and walk unsteadily to the Ravenclaw table to the enthusiastic clapping of her new housemates and the jeers of the Slytherins. She sat down gingerly at the end of the table next to Luna Lovegood who smiled at her dreamily but Hermione's eyes continued to seek out his and Ron's as the next name was called, "Weasley, Ronald."

Ron, face pale and eyes wide, went to the stool and sat down. The Hat, much as it had with Draco Malfoy, barely touched his head when it stated, "Gryffindor!" Ron slumped on the stool comically and then made his way to Gryffindor where he glanced worriedly back and forth between Hermione at the Ravenclaw table and Harry standing last and alone before the Sorting Hat.

The Great Hall was silent and expectant as the last name for the unexpected Sorting was called, "Potter, Harry."

Severus Snape had watched the proceedings with a bored expression and a jaundiced eye. Despite the Know-it-all's change of House, every other second year had been returned to their original House. Last and in his eyes, least of all remained Harry-Bloody-Troublemaker-Potter. The only amusing thing aspect of the situation was the brat's discomfiture. Showing no signs of the famed Gryffindor courage, Harry Potter was shifting nervously and casting longing glances hinting at escapist fantasies at the side doors. He barely contained his sigh of annoyance when the boy all but stumbled onto the stool looking shaken and scared and proceeded to grip the sides of the stool with a death grip. He allowed himself a brief moment of woolgathering in which he imagined how he would have handled the boy had he been one of his Snakes.

Severus Snape had no more than that one brief moment because when the Sorting Hat shouted, "Slytherin", his heart faltered to a stop before starting again at a furious pace. That same furious pace pumped the blood which flooded his muscles and propelled the Potions Master's desire to be up and out of his chair. Only his many years of discipline as both a Death Eater at the mercy of an insane wizard and a spy in the employ of another most certainly insane wizard, kept him in his seat. The resultant frustrated adrenaline rush left him just as pale and shaken as the Brat-Who-Lived-To-Cause-Trouble.


End file.
